


One Two. Three

by Shuttering_Flutterflies



Series: Under-and-Overtale [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Frisk Has a Bad Time, I'm watching you Papyrus, Pacifist Frisk, Post-Genocide Route, Spoilers - Genocide Route
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6634702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shuttering_Flutterflies/pseuds/Shuttering_Flutterflies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frisk wakes up in an unfamiliar place with a voice in their head.</p>
<p>Frisk meets a slightly familiar flower and has a second voice in their head.</p>
<p>Frisk finds a painful door and can hear the whispers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Two. Three

It's warmer than they thought it would be. That didn't really surprise Frisk. Mrs Olsen always said heaven was like what you wanted, and they always liked the warmth. It was strange how warm it was here, almost like a fire. Uncomfortable, much too uncomfortable. They had to get up. They had to leave before they were hurt.

Frisk struggled to stand, to see what kind of heaven this was, where the air was scalding and the ground slightly uncomfortable, but this was a cruel heaven, one where arriving made you lose all your energy and crumple to the floor when you tried to stand. They opened their mouth to call for someone but nobody came only to find that their throat was dry and they couldn't choke out anything more than a wheeze.

Faced with a second death, Frisk trembled, praying for it to be quick, to be as painless as fire could be, hoping for it to be as good as their first death, alone and starving on the mountain, when a hand seized their wrist and pulled them to their feet. Through their fringe, they could vaguely make out a figure in front of them, the one who had saved them from an awful death. An angel?

Frisk managed to open their eyes further, only to see that this was not an angel at all. It was a strange ghostlike figure, taller than them and misty, the world blurring and glitching where they stood. They couldn't get a good enough look at them to see what kind of creature they were at all.

"Thanks," Frisk said slowly, hours upon hours with Mrs Olsen learning how to treat men right flooded back to them, and they slowly pulled away. "For helping, I mean."

The figure gave what they assumed to be a nod. "These wards are old and faulty. Don't tell her they hurt you, will you? She'll feel so bad."

Frisk nodded, completely at a loss for words. They had been abandoned on a hill, and finally fell and died, only to end up in hell and be saved by some strange ghost, who was now making them promise to not mention almost being burned alive as to not upset 'her'. Frisk wasn't sure who this 'her' person was, but wanted to give her a piece of their mind!

"Great." They figure beamed. "You need any other help, because I have an appointment with the good doctor at six and I don't want to miss it. This ones the bi-monthly."

Frisk carefully considered their choices here. Send this complete stranger away and be left alone to get home, or get help, and possibly be killed. There was a chance this person was completely insane, a pretty big chance with all the strange nonsense they kept speaking about, but help was help, Mrs Olsen said once.

"I wanna go home," they said, giving a hesitant look to the person. "Are you gonna help?"

The figure stayed still for a second, before looking at what could only be their wrist. A small red chain had attached itself to it, the other end on Frisks matching wrist. Without a word, they lifted up their arm, dragging Frisks arm into the air too.

"Well," they said, an air of finality and annoyance in their voice. "Looks like I have to. Oh boy. I love adventures."

Frisk looked at their feet, not wanting to anger the person. Even if they had been nice so far, there was always a chance that at any second, they could turn on them, and do bad things. Even if the person was nice, it was better to be safe than sorry, Mrs Olsen said. Mrs Olsen was forgotten about when Frisk noticed the large yellow flowers under their feet. Their survival (they guessed) must be due to that.

"They must have broken my fall," they explained, seeing their new companion follow their gaze in confusion. "The flowers."

The figure looked up at where Frisk fell from. "It was the wards, kid. I told you this, honestly."

Frisk didn't know what the wards where, and elected to ignore them.

"I, uh," Frisk began, only to quiet down when the figure turned back to look at them. Now, they were much less transparent, having an identifiable figure and face. They were rainbow coloured and had odd proportions - too-thin arms, a large head, and on their head was two large faded pupils. Further down on their face was a large crimson gash, working as a sort of mouth. Their mouth was turned up in a smile and Frisk realised their mistake. What they had assumed to be their mouth was only their upper lip. Their bottom lip was on a hinge like a skeleton, slightly lighter than the rest of them and quite out of place. Whole part of their body were flickering in and out of existence, or just plain gone, and they could see strange sketchy lines marking out where their body should be in those places. Their body was covered with a mossy green sweater with randomly coloured stripes almost covering their 'legs'. It was a strange sight, to say the least. That's what Mrs Olsen would have said if she were here.

Mrs Olsen also would have said that staring is rude, so Frisk averted their eyes and continued with what they were saying, aware of the eyes on them. "Do you have a name? That I can, um, call you?"

They could see the figure shift in the corner of their eyes, and an awkward silence fill the room, before the figure shrugged. "I don't know, Chara or something."

Frisk nodded, testing the name out in their mind. Something about it made their feet tingle, and they briskly walked over to the exit, peering outside. The corridor was dark and abandoned, no life or warmth present.

"Can you go first?" they asked Chara nervously, still scanning the corridor for anything that might jump out and attack them.

Chara sighed and floated infront of them, stick-arms crossed in impatience, stopping in place just outside the door. "C'mon, there's nothing here, let's move."

Frisk slowly followed them outside, still looking around nervously. "Don't be so loud! What if we run into 'her'?"

Chara didn't respond for a moment, and Frisk wondered if they were rethinking their plan, until they did respond - with a question.

"Who's she?"

Before Frisk could point out that they and no idea who she was either, Chara made a small noise of recognition, and then snorted in laughter.

"What? What if she catches us and hurts us?" Frisk asked, wondering how Chara could see something like potential death as funny.

"She won't. She's nice." Sensing Frisks rising frustration at not knowing who she was, Chara laughed again and continued on.

Frisks scurried a after them, and found that to their relief the corridor wasn't that big and the next room was quite big. Chara was already waiting inside, staring at a patch of flowers intently. Confused, Frisk followed them over, almost standing right at the spot, until a flower burst from the ground. Frisk screeched in fear and leapt back, almost hitting the wall, as the flower opened it's mouth and started talking.

"Howdy! I'm Flowey!"

**Author's Note:**

> It begins.


End file.
